The Altar
by LadyBonBon
Summary: It stood in the midst of a large abandoned city, between the temple and the village. A stone structure adorned with nothing but the carved images set upon its side. The only odd thing about it was the heap of bodies that lay dead beside it with chests busted open raised to the heavens.
1. Chapter 1

_**The Altar**_

The woman stumbled to her feet dazed and disoriented but somehow, and for this she was grateful, still alive. Her hand fumbled to her chest where she felt a slight pain but nothing unbearable. What had happened? She couldn't remember much. Images flashed before her, but she couldn't interpret them.

Where was everyone else? She looked around her but found no one. Her group was gone, her professor gone, the guide gone, Johnny-gone. She tried to remember. Flashes of things, spider like things, and then something gripping her face tightly and wrapping around her neck choking her. She remembered trying to struggle, something forcing its way into her mouth . . . Then nothing. She couldn't remember much other than that.

Her chest ached again, this time more painfully than the last. She pressed a hand to her chest and breathed deeply. She had to find her group. She must have gotten lost—the others might be looking for her; of course they were looking for her, right? She may not have majored in archeology, but they wouldn't just abandon her. Johnny wouldn't abandon her.

Her chest heaved, and she cried out. She began stumbling forward in the jungle until she came to a clearing. The temple was there, the one they had just found, the one they were just beginning to explore! Her group would be there! She kept going despite the persistent ache in her chest; she had to find them. She didn't like being alone. She made it to a large concrete platform between the temple and the city. Her breath came out fast and her chest heaved and ached.

What was wrong with her? Why did this hurt so badly? A few tears leaked out of her eyes as she fumbled onto the courtyard and towards the center. She called out to them, to her group, but the only response was her own echo.

"Johnny!" She called, "Professor Donald!" She came to the altar, the stone altar with the carved images along the side. The images of humans offering bloodied hearts to their gods. It was unnatural to her, but it was her sole focal point now. She had to reach the altar. As if there, the pain would stop. Her chest heaved almost too painfully, and she cried out. The woman coughed into her hand and she found that a dab of blood had come up. She coughed again and more blood fell into her hand. The woman felt her face to see if she was sick, but her hands were already too hot so she couldn't tell.

Her vision blurred, but she could still make out the altar.

She came closer to the altar and placed her hands upon its edge gripping it tightly. She leaned over it and began gasping for air. Her chest heaved again and this time she felt her ribs begin to crack. It was a sickening sound that had pain flood through her causing her to scream. She fell to her knees before the altar with her hands still gripping the edge. She began to cry.

She cried and coughed, and she used her hand to wipe her eyes but it only smeared her own blood upon her face. Her hand came back to the altar and began to trace the faces of the human images. Blood followed her finger and then began to drip down the concrete. The sun beat down on her, and she rested her head against the altar's edge.

"Johnny," she called out hoarsely. "Prof. . .Professor. . ." She coughed.

Her chest heaved again and the woman screeched as her chest cavity was torn open from the inside. Blood spattered onto the ground and the altar in tiny rain like drops. Her dying scream mixed with the tiny screech of another, and then all was silent. The woman lay dead before the altar upon her knees with her head bent down as if she were offering up a prayer—or a sacrifice.

* * *

Julie Smart didn't like Dr. Busque. In fact, if she was being completely honest with herself, she hated him with as much ferocity as she hated Kelly Pinkerton who had bullied her all throughout grade school because she had to wear braces. Julie didn't normally hate people—she really tried to see that hard to find good spot that sometimes shined through in a person. But, as she had recently come to find out, Dr. Busque didn't have one of those small, hard to reach shining spots. He was just an asshole with a degree in archaeology and ancient civilizations. Busque was intelligent, logical, and an asshole. A person didn't get much deeper than that with the good doctor.

Sure he was fluent in French, English, and Spanish, and sure he was highly regarded in his field as an expert in all things—this didn't stop him from being an arse to everyone who had the misfortune of meeting him and spending too much time in his company. Lucky for Julie, she was going to be spending an abundance of time in the doctor's company, and that meant a good week or so of listening to him badger her work and degrade her accomplishments as if they were mere ribbons she got for having spelled cat correctly at a school spelling bee.

The only positive outcome to this trip would be the finding of a new Mayan village. Julie had a contact that was working in Mexico call her about a month ago with the information that there were suspicions that there was an undiscovered Mayan city deep within the Amazon in Brazil way past the small city of Tefé, an isolated town with no roads connecting to any other cities and the a boat ride of 663 kilometers by boat from Manaus. The supposed city was estimated to be a three day trek past Tefé, out of cell phone coverage and a long way away from any help should they need it. Her contact, a former colleague, had called her with excitement on the tip he had received and told her if she wanted to get the first look she would have to get a jump on it.

Of course, he had also recommended Dr. Busque to her…

The boat gave a hard rock, and Julie gripped the side to keep herself from tumbling off the seat. Her stomach heaved with the boat, and she placed a hand over her mouth and tried to steady her queasy insides. Julie didn't like boats or water or being in a boat on the water and moving up and down on the waves, but this was one of the quickest ways to get to Tefé besides flying. But Busque didn't enjoy flying all that much and didn't if he didn't have to, so they couldn't fly to Tefé. They had to either ride the boat or trek the jungle for days. Her stomach lurched when the boat dipped and then shot up again, and Julie gave a groan. From beside her Denise Mendoza, Julie's assistant and intern, giggled as she was sprayed with water. Julie was glad someone was enjoying the boat ride from hell.

On the deck of the boat were the work men laughing and cutting up. Julie could swear they were laughing at her in Portuguese, but she didn't speak Portuguese so she couldn't be sure. In fact, Julie Smart didn't even know Spanish other than hello and thank you. She had told the men hello in Spanish and had thanked them as well, but they merely laughed at her and tipped their hats. She hadn't known if they were mocking her or not. Of course, she soon found out that most of them spoke English and didn't need for her to try her hand at Spanish which had embarrassed her even more. You would think she would have picked up Spanish from being in Mexico so often, but Julie had never been focused on the language, only the findings.

The head of the working men on the boat was an older man by the name of Emilio who lashed out in streams of curses at his men when they were caught sitting on their asses and not doing their jobs. When Julie had first met the man he was polite if a bit solemn and quiet and had expressed little enthusiasm about the expedition even with all the money Busque was throwing at him. His crew men were excited about the payment though and couldn't contain their excitement at the French man and his motley crew bumbling about in the jungle for a week while they fed their pockets.

"Oh, oops!" Bruce Roussel tripped when the boat gave a lurch and landed into Denise. The young woman giggled at Dr. Brusque's assistant, a thin, gangly sort of young man whose name did nothing to help his scrawny figure. "Pardon," he said with a laugh. He hefted himself up and gave Denise a small smile.

"Roussel!" Busque shouted from the other side of the boat causing the young man to jump. "Stop fumbling around like a newborn foal and prepare yourself." He turned towards the patch of land that was forming on the horizon. "We are about to land." Bruce nodded and went back down below the deck while Busque made his way over to Julie and Denise. His face was tight and hard; Denise had remarked when she had first set eyes on the man that it looked as if he had never smiled before. His face always tight, his mouth always set into that firm line without deviating unless it was to curl downward into a sneer.

"Dr. Busque," Julie said—heaven forbid she ever just call him Busque—with a nod.

He didn't acknowledge the gesture, "We will be landing in Tefé soon. We'll stay there for the night and then depart with Emilio and his group in the morning, Smart." Busque had the annoying habit of calling everyone by their last name. And Busque loved to snap out Julie's in a voice that meant that he thought her far from smart. Everyone was Smart, Roussel, and Mendoza all except Emilio who hadn't given a last name (much to Busque's irritation).

"That's good," She gave a smile which wasn't returned. Busque turned on his heels and walked over to Emilio where he began to discuss something that Julie couldn't hear.

"What a total ass," Denise whispered. Even when she was speaking softly, the twang in her voice was still there and it irritated Busque to no end. Julie thought that Denise added a bit more accent than she really had just to get under the Doctor's skin. "Are all French men like him?"

"Shh!" Julie covered Denise's mouth, but the Texan merely laughed behind Julie's manicured hand even louder; her shoulders shook up and down and her eyes crinkled in merriment. The older woman rolled her eyes and released her assistant's mouth while wiping a bit of spit off of her hand.

Denise laughed again, "You act like he's the Dean of the school and you're a student waiting outside his office." The boat rocked and the two women swayed with the motion. Denise laughed at her boss's uneasy face.

"He's not the dean, but he _is_ paying for the trip." She gave Denise a flick on the head. "So you need to be more polite."

Denise rolled her eyes and pulled a face. "He acts like I'm his assistant too. _Mendoza_," she began in a faux French accent that was horrible to country of France, "_Can you tell me at least one thing about the Mayans other than that they died a long time ago._" She rolled her eyes again and Julie felt that the girl's eyes would stay that way if she continued on any longer. "Like I don't know the difference between Mayan culture and the Cherokee Indians or something! I'm majoring in ancient civilizations."

Julie laughed quietly and gave the young woman a pat on the back. "He treats everyone like that, Denise." Emilio called for a landing and both women stood to gather their things. The heavier equipment would be taken by Emilio's group, but Julie and Denise carried their clothing and a few hygienic items in a backpack along with a few notes and other small tools that would help them on their journey.

The boat docked and they were escorted off while Emilio's men waited behind to take the crates. They would stay in a hotel tonight and then backpack it with Emilio and his men the next morning. Denise had complained about sleeping in tents, but there was nothing to be done. The rumor of the Mayan city was supposedly way pass Tefé deep into the Amazon. There would be no places to stop and rent a room.

The city of Tefé was quaint and bustling, but people didn't usually hang around the city long. People only came there so as to take tours into the Amazon not for the city itself. It was an old city with small stands for trading and selling and a few run down places for renting for the night, an airport, houses, and other such things but nothing too exciting to travelers.

They were led to one of the nicer looking hotels and went to their rooms. Denise chatted on about the luxury of a bath and a warm bed while Julie was just happy to be off of the boat. Though they were off the boat and safely in their room (her and Denise were sharing), Julie could still feel the ghost rocking of the boat whenever she sat down. It made her queasy all over again.

"So this city," Denise said from the tub in the bathroom. "Why hasn't anyone found it yet?" Julie heard her splashing about in the hot water.

Julie hummed as she lay down on the slightly bumpy bed. "I'm not sure. Roger, you remember Roger, right?"

"The guy with the bird beaked nose?"

Julie rolled her eyes, "Yeah, him. Well, he said that a few tourists came down here and found a few old pots much closer to Tefé, and they weren't from any Mayan site we know of. He caught word of it and gave me the info on it."

"You think we'll run into any more archeologist groups?"

"Without a doubt." Julie closed her eyes and began to drift off. "Looking forward to those confrontations, especially since we have Busque."

Denise laughed, "That's _Dr. _Busque."

* * *

Trekking through the jungle in the middle of January was on Julie's list of the top ten things to never do ever again. It was hot, humid, and the bugs seemed to be in just the right mood to bite at their sweating skin. Denise huffed beside her, her younger body not faring much better.

"When are we going to stop?" She whispered to Julie. "We've been walking for hours." She pulled a face, "and I have to pee."

"You really wanna go out here?" Julie asked.

"I'd go off of the top of Mount Rushmore if I could just relieve myself." Denise giggled and Julie did as well.

From ahead of them was Bruce who would turn around every five minutes or so and send what he thought was a charming smile to Denise. The young man was struggling with his large backpack as Julie noticed him trip every now and again under its hefty weight. Dr. Busque walked at the head with Emilio slightly in front of him cutting away at bushes and plants that got in their way. The rest of the men straggled along behind the group chatting loudly and laughing at jokes told in their native tongue. They didn't seem to mind the heat as much.

"Men are so lucky," Denise grumbled as she hefted her backpack up. "They can just stop for two seconds, piss, and then go on without even losing sight of the group."

Dr. Busque had allowed them a break about two hours ago even though he had rolled his eyes and muttered over the idiocy of it all. Whether he was complaining about women or the need to relieve one's self was a mystery to both women. Julie looked over at Denise and studied her. Blonde hair thrown up in a sloppy pony tail, tan skin, and vibrant green eyes. She was a pretty girl full of jokes and sarcasm that kept things interesting when they were stuck in a museum office for weeks on end or when they traveled to far off sites. Denise was always good company even if she did have the tendency to complain a lot more than she should. A good assistant and very good company.

"He'll let us stop in a bit," Julie said to her assistant. "I'm sure he just wants to make good time. You know, with this being such an important discovery and all."

Denise scoffed, "He's such a control freak." She looked over at Julie, "Why are we even letting him come on this expedition. It's your contact, your lead." Her hand came up and slapped at a mosquito. "Damn bugs," she hissed. "Did you know that only the female mosquitoes bite you?"

"Really?" Julie arched an eyebrow. "Busque is a lot better off than us, with better funding and better equipment. I don't care about the recognition as much as the actual discovery." Julie smiled, "So the females are the ones ruining our trip then, yeah?"

"Yup," Denise popped the 'p'. "Those little bitches." The two women laughed and continued to follow the rest of the group though they had slowed considerably. Emilio's men began to pass them up and soon the women were staring at the backs of all them.

"If you're about to piss yourself," Julie began, "Then go quickly while everyone's still in sight."

Denise gave a groan of 'Thank God', and ran into the brush off to the side. Julie kept looking at the men as they began to get further and further away. She shouted for Denise to hurry up.

"Hey, Julie!" Denise shouted at her after a few minutes, "Come see this thing!" Julie heard a shout of eww before, "Never mind, I'm bringing it!" Denise stumbled from the brush, her pants still undone, and with an egg like object in her grasp.

"What the hell is that, Denise?" Julie asked while coming closer.

"It's like an egg, but it's leathery and kind of slimy. Kind of like a sac!" Denise shoved it into Julie's face and the woman touched at the egg's outer cover. How odd. "What do you think it is, Julie?"

Julie made to answer when they heard a shout from Busque not too far away; apparently they were being missed already. Denise hurriedly shoved it into her backpack as Busque and Emilio appeared.

"Smart! What the hell—?"

"Sorry," Julie interrupted, "we had to take a bathroom break."

Busque's face turned red and he sneered, "Don't do it again, Smart. We have to make good time less another group get there before us." He turned to Emilio, "Let's go!"

"Told you he was an ass," Denise muttered and she hefted her now heavier backpack up again.

* * *

_**A/N: Bored and need an outlet for the scary things that pop up as plots. An alien fic that's pure horror with no mushy, gushy, romance or Predators in this fic(well, no appearance from Predators—I don't think they'll show) I've had just about enough of my predators for awhile. (They're making me upset…)**_

_**So enjoy this while I try and fail to update everything else. Most likely this will be updated sooner seeing how I'm at a roadblock. **_

_**As always: R&R**_

_**~LadyB**_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Altar**

The man was stuck to a wall in a dark pit by a thick slime that would have made him want to vomit if he had the strength to—he was too weak to do much of anything now. His head pounded with an unbearable ache, and when he tried to relieve the ache by moving his head ever so slightly, he came cheek to cheek with the Professor who was also stuck to the wall. The man—Johnny, he thought, my name is Johnny—gave a startled yelp and stared at the lifeless form of his Professor and Mentor. The man who had dragged him out here to this hell in hopes of being the first to find ruins of an undiscovered city. The old man's mouth was gaping open and his eyes were wide, but he was dead. Johnny had felt the coolness of death when his cheek touched the lifeless one of the Professor's. Stone cold dead. Johnny wondered when it had happened. Surely he would have heard the Professor's screams of agony, wouldn't he have? How long had he been out of it? Johnny couldn't remember.

His eyes moved to look around the dark abyss that he was in, but since not even the slightest smidgen of light escaped from the outside and into the further part of the room, his eyes could not adjust and view the darkened world around him. Only a slight sliver of light came from above him, projecting only the dead Professor and the slime he was coated in. Like a halo of protection, the light gave Johnny a bit of courage. Though he could not see deeper into the pit he was in, he was still alive, and that was a good thing, right?

In spite of not being able to see the things further around them, his ears could pick up the sounds of others. Johnny could hear things scurrying about on tiny legs around the room; he could hear the thump of large feet, the squeal of something, and then various hisses. He would have shouted, he _should_ have shouted, but his throat seemed to be in a vice grip and didn't respond. He tried to imagine what was in the room. He pictured mutant slugs or large sludge spitting snakes. Giant trolls came to mind and the thought made him grin weakly. All he had left was his imagination. Roxanne always said he had a wonderful imagination.

At the thought of her, Johnny wondered where she was. Was she in here with him, stuck to this wall covered in slime? Was her mouth opened wide in a never ending silent scream with her beautiful eyes now dulled and glazed over with death? Johnny's mouth trembled and a sob escaped him. He heard more hissing and chittering, but he ignored it. But maybe, he thought, maybe she was still alive like him. Stuck to the wall in the darkness wondering if he were alive, wondering if she would escape. Wondering why she didn't have a halo of protection above her. At the thought of the little light he had hope began to flitter into his mind. Maybe she could see him because of the slight light above him!

He wiggled around in his cocoon. No dice, it was clear that without something sharp to cut his way out he was permanently stuck to the wall. Johnny couldn't give up though. Roxanne might be watching; she might not be able to call out to him. An image of her dead and cold with her mouth slightly agape made him sick as it drifted across his thoughts before flittering away. He wiggled again before giving up. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Roxanne," he whispered in the silence. He wiggled a bit more. "Roxanne." He received no answer from the surrounding darkness except a few hisses from things he could not see. Something close to him hissed loudly and in the sliver of light that served as his halo of hope he could see a shape unfolding from the dark. It bled black with a dome like head while it exposed pearly white teeth. Its lips quivered as it hissed again.

Panic began to swell within him, and Johnny found it hard to breathe. The creature's maw opened wide to reveal a tiny tube like tongue that exposed its own tiny trap of jaws. Johnny gasped and struggled to move away, but he was trapped in the thick goo. He cringed away from the jaws that could so easily snap his face in half, but the thing merely caressed his cheek with its black tongue before moving away into the darkness.

Jonny thought it odd that the creature had been so gentle with him, as if he were a precious commodity, before there was a screech and then something was attached to his face, jutting something down his throat while something else coiled around his neck tightly. Johnny struggled to breathe before he fell into darkness.

* * *

"What is it?" Denise whispered as they both sat within the seclusion of their own tent. Their voices were low and heads bent downward as they examined the leathery pod that was an egg and then, was not one.

Julie ran a hand over the leathery texture of the egg's outside, "I couldn't possible tell you. I'm not all that familiar with the animal life around here." She wasn't very familiar with animals at all having never really had more than a cat. Her fingers caressed the top of the egg where there seemed to be edges of leather that folded inward where the egg would most likely open up from the top—odd. "But I can tell you that I've never seen anything like this, not even in books."

"I took a biology class, but this isn't anything that I've ever had to classify." Denise rubbed her fingers together, "It's got some kind of gooish film on the outside of it." She whipped her hands on her shirt but the residue remained on her fingers. "Gross, the stuff is like glue." She pulled out some hand sanitizer and rubbed her hands together. The goo finally seemed to come off. Denise made a face.

"It must hold the eggs in place in the nest," Julie said. "But what kind of animal does that?"

"Giant mutant slugs?" Denise shrugged her shoulders not knowing what else to say. Outside they heard the laughter of Emilio's men as they sat around a fire and cooked their food. Dr. Busque was in his own tent and the last time they saw Bruce he was sitting awkwardly with Emilio's men pretending to know what was being said and laughing whenever a supposed joke was made. More than likely the men were making fun of him, but Busque's assistant didn't seem to mind.

"You probably shouldn't have taken it, Denise," Julie said with a frown. "The mother might be looking for it or something."

"Nah," Denise said, "It wasn't even in a nest." She poked at the thing again, this time with a pencil so as not to get any of the sticky goo on her fingers, "Something probably took it and then dropped it by accident; I don't know how, seeing as it's so sticky. Wonder what's inside."

The two women both shrugged. It was an odd looking thing. Oval in shape, leathery in texture, slimy, and cool to the touch. Julie wondered aloud why it wasn't warm, weren't eggs warm?

"No, well, not if they're not covered or sat on." Denise shrugged, "Don't know for sure; you know any animal experts?"

Julie snorted, "Nope, the people I know enjoy digging up things that are already dead and taking their things." They sat in silence for awhile before an idea came to Julie. "Give me your flashlight," she said to Denise. The younger woman raised an eyebrow before handing it over to her boss. Julie took the flashlight and shined the light into the egg. On the other side came the shadow of what looked like a boney hand with a tail.

"Oh, ew, it's not even cute." Denise wrinkled her nose. "It's like some sort of spider."

Julie hummed in thought. "How interesting," she poked at the egg to see if the thing inside would move; it jiggled a little, its feet twitching ever so slightly. "Maybe it just needs time to develop?"

"Into what? A giant spider-hand? Gross." The flashlight clicked off and was handed back while the egg was placed off to the side of their tent. "I don't want to sleep by it now," Denise said.

A shadow cast over their tent, "Pardon," came Bruce's voice from the other side of the tent. "We have food ready if you want it." His voice was soft and polite and Julie wondered how such a kind, if awkward, young man ever came to work for the asshole that was Dr. Busque.

"Thank you, Bruce," she said. "We'll be out in just a moment."

The two women covered the egg with their bags and then stepped out into the clearing they had used as their first rest stop. The sun dipped low on the horizon bleeding into a beautiful hue of red and oranges and then purples and finally black. There were three tents: one for Julie and Denise, one for Dr. Busque, and one for Bruce. Emilio's men were content to sleep outside on blankets near the warmth of the fire. Two men would keep watch and switch every few hours or so.

Around the fire the men ate canned foods and a few fruits that had been packed. Julie wondered what Busque was eating when she opened up her own can of meat. She began to heat it up with the fire in a small pot she had brought, surely that would make it taste better. No. She cringed as she chewed on the gamey meat and forced herself to swallow. Julie took a large gulp of water to help wash down the meat.

Emilio sat on the other side of the fire right in front of her with his own can of meat, solemn and quiet. He chewed slowly while his dark eyes stared into the fire. Julie watched the fire's glare dance upon his older face. "Señor Emilio," she said aloud. He didn't seem to hear her over the roar of laughter of his men and the crackle of the fire. Julie hesitated before standing and moving to sit beside him. No one noticed her move; Denise was too caught up in chatting with Bruce and Emilio's men were too involved amongst themselves. "Señor Emilio," she said again and the older man jumped at the sound of her voice so close. She knew he wasn't Spanish, or rather, that wasn't his native tongue, but he did speak it, and she thought it more polite.

"Yes," he said hesitantly. His voice was thick with his Brazilian accent. "Ms. Smart, did you need something?" Emilio, come to find out, was much older than he looked. An older man of 55, Emilio looked to be in his thirties right along with herself, but his eyes—his eyes gave away so much. They were tired with age.

"I wanted to thank you again, Señor Emilio for all that you have done for us and all that you and your men will do." She gave him a smile.

"Oh," he nodded, and his face remained solemn. "You're welcome, Ms. Smart." Those same wizened eyes turned back towards the fire where they danced among the flames.

"Is something troubling you, Señor Emilio?" Julie couldn't help but feel sad at the way the man gave a great sigh before turning back towards her.

"This jungle is old, yes?"

Julie's brow creased in confusion, "Of course it is." She looked at the darkened jungle around her. Deep hanging trees gave the feeling that the jungle was closing in on them, trapping them there so that they could be devoured.

Emilio glanced up as well before his eyes dropped back to the fire. "Old things harbor dark pasts." His face glowed brightly from the orange of the fire. "And here you are trying to dig up what's been buried for so long."

"I didn't believe you were superstitious, Señor Emilio." But of course, this shouldn't have come as a surprise to her. Many of the people that lived in the smaller cities along the jungle's edge were wary of the unknown.

He frowned, "It is not superstition that has me wary—it is respect." The sounds around them began to fade out as Julie focused entirely on Emilio. "Respect for life, respect for death, and respect for the unknown."

"What do you believe we'll find out there, Señor Emilio? What else _could_ be out here?"

"And that's why I am wary, Ms. Smart, because I _don't_ know." He was silent after that, going back to staring solemnly at the fire. After a few moments, Julie retired from the group and headed back to her tent.

Julie settled inside her tent on her sleeping bag with her notebook opened on her crossed legs. Notes and jotted numbers and doodles littered the pages. Julie leafed through her notebook until she came to an empty page. Thinking on what to put on the blank white pages she decided on the odd egg they had found that was now hidden behind their backpacks. She took the egg from its hiding place and then set it in front of her. She studied its shape again and found that it had swollen in size. While still retaining its oval shape, it became fuller towards the middle giving it a rounder shape.

"Odd," Julie whispered. She bent down and picked it up again and felt that it was slightly heavier. Had it grown in the small amount of time they had been outside? Julie fumbled around in her backpack for her flashlight and then shined the beam of light into the egg.

The spider-like creature had now rolled itself into a thick ball and was closer to the top of the egg. Julie wondered if it had died. If, when the small being inside kicked the bucket, it coiled around itself and then floated to the top of its swollen home.

Denise came into the tent smiling until she saw the egg, then she grimaced again. "Yuck, we should definently leave it in a hole somewhere."

"I think it's dead," Julie said.

Compassion flooded back into Denise's face as if she had forgotten how disgusted she was by the thought of a giant spider in an egg and she frowned, "Aw, how can you tell?"

Julie showed her the coiled body of the would be animal and remarked on its swollen egg and the fact that it was closer to the top. "I think it finally died; it's sad really." She sighed, "We should probably put it outside of the camp just in case it starts to rot and the smell attracts scavengers." Denise made a face and scooted away to her side of the tent causing Julie to roll her eyes.

"What? It's gross."

Julie said nothing and picked up the egg and placed it in her empty backpack. She headed out of the tent and told the men she was going to take a leak. Emilio told her not to wonder off too far and Julie promised she wouldn't.

After a good bit away from the camp, though she could still see the camp light and hear the men's laughter and chatter, she thought it was far enough. Julie pulled the egg out of her pack and set it on the ground. She felt bad that its life would end all alone and in the darkness of the oppressing jungle. A noise in the dark spooked her, and Julie rushed back towards the camp with the thought of the egg's fate forgotten.

* * *

The egg that lay forgotten in the dark wiggled ever so slightly before the folds of leather that overlapped on the top began to peel back much like that of a banana. On the inside, the ball of flesh began to uncoil around itself. Tiny legs that resembled thin fingers began to feel their way out of the slippery innards of the egg. A tiny creature that resembled a hand with a swirling tail crept from the folds of its once home and began to feel its way about on the dirt floor of the Amazon.

It had no eyes to see with. No ears to really listen with. But it could sense the things around it. It was driven by one need alone, and that need was not to sleep or to eat. The urge to implant became strong, and so it slipped into the tall brush and disappeared.

* * *

There were two men on watch this hour. One tall burly man and the other, his brother, smaller and thinner. To keep from falling asleep on their scheduled watch they talked and played cards. The older brother—the bigger one—stood from his spot. He informed his brother that he had to take a piss and that he'd be back in two shakes (which made his brother laugh at the crude humor behind it).

The oldest brother headed out into the brush, his gun resting in its holder at his side. Once he deemed himself far enough away he began to unzip his pants, but before he could let himself loose, he heard a rustle in the brush beside him. Quickly, he fixed himself and pulled his gun out as he scanned the area. He couldn't see much else other than the grass and the dark shade of the trees that loitered so high above him. He turned to look behind him.

Nothing. Nothing but the darkness and the faint light of the dying fire from their campsite. The older brother grunted before placing his gun back in its holster and moving to undo himself again.

A flying screech. Thick finger like appendages gripping the sides of his face and something tight winding around his neck. It happened within a split second. Something jabbed its way down his esophagus and the man struggled to breathe while his hands came up to pull at the thing that was suctioned to his face. He grunted and moaned and pulled, working on the tiny legs that gripped his face so tightly. They wouldn't budge.

So he bit down. He bit down hard on the intruding thing and the creature seemed to shriek in protest while its legs loosened and it uncoiled itself from around his neck. And then it bled.

Green blood pooled into the man's mouth and he screamed as the blood touched his tongue and began eating it away. He threw the creature away from him and began to rubbing at his mouth. But nothing could stop the acid that was tearing away at his tongue. He ran back to the camp where the men stood when they heard his shouts and screams guns drawn. He pushed past them and to the water and began filling his mouth and spitting. Filling his mouth and spitting.

Finally, the burning subsided, but the damage was done. The man's tongue was gone and the inside of his cheeks were heavily burnt. He tried to talk, to tell them of the thing that attacked him, but no words would come out. Grunts and shrieks were all that would come forth from his mouth.

Emilio came to the man's side, pulled him down, and examined the man's mouth. The commotion had drawn Bruce and Busque from their tents as well as Julie and Denise. The two women rushed forward with the medical kit they had brought, but nothing could be done. The two women weren't sure if the burn cream they had could be placed on the inside of a person's mouth and feared it would poison him if ingested.

"What on earth happened?" Julie asked Emilio while Denise was trying to soothe the hysterical man.

Emilio frowned, "He was attacked from what I can make out from his hand gestures." He sighed, "I will have to ask his brother if he can read or write so that he might be able to tell us what happened."

"Attacked?" Julie whispered, "By what?"

The old man stared at her with dull eyes, "He can't say."

* * *

_**A/N: And it only gets worse from here on out. Since my muse on my other stories seems to be out of town and hitting the slots in Vegas, the muse for this story seems pretty warmed up and ready to torture some more.**_

_**~LadyB**_


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